The text was always pallid and weak compared to what he knew and felt, which was the proof that he lacked the genius to externalize himself on this issue.
He said that there was actually one writing project that if carried out successfully would be enough to justify anyone’s life. That would be a convincing essay against violence, against participating in official violence, ever. He had the noumenal form of the essay.
his Uncle Niall had been working as a courier for the IRA. So he had been functioning as a shuffling old murderous factotum well into the sixties or even later
hell yeah
Ultimately it was my continuing silence that got Denoon to realize he had to perorate.
Anyway, the sight of Harold sitting down again like Canute on his throne and looking around for me to explain to him what on earth was now going to happen was too much for me, and I fled.
